You Can Run But You Can't Hide
by Eileen
Summary: Pietro's always been a loveemandleaveem type of guy . . . what happens when he meets the one girl he can't get away from? Rated for sexual scenes. CURRENT STATUS: Working on new chapter.
1. I'll Never Forget What'sHerName

YOU CAN RUN . . .

BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE

(Disclaimer: All Evolution characters are the property of Marvel/Kids WB. I do, however, own Stephanie. And her screwed-up family.)

(Warning: Contains some sexual themes and scenes.)

Not many students at Bayville High knew about the mattress in the janitor's closet. Pietro Maximoff had only found it by accident, while he was looking for a place to hide from the principal, Ms. Darkholme. (Why he was hiding from her was another story.)   
Currently he and a girl whose name he had already forgotten were making use of the mattress, between classes.

She was a moaner, which was a problem if they didn't want to be discovered. Pietro solved that by keeping his mouth on hers, to muffle the sound.   
They switched positions a couple of times, just to keep it interesting. Once she got on top, though, she wanted to stay there. She actually tried to roll him back over when he tried to trade off. He didn't have time to fight--there were only three minutes until the bell, so they had to finish this quickly.   
When they were done, Pietro got up and put his pants back on.   
What's-her-name was still lying there, a big smile on her face. The smile faded when she saw what he was doing. "Where you going?"   
"To class. I don't wanna be late." He tossed her her underpants and jeans. "C'mon, we gotta get out of here."   
"You can't just leave! Come hold me for a while."   
"We don't have time! If Darkholme catches me skipping class again--"   
Suddenly her arms were around his waist. No, wait, those weren't her arms. "Come on back and we'll snuggle."   
"Look . . ." What **was** her name, anyway? Pietro shook his head and finished getting dressed. "We have to get to class. We'll snuggle later."   
"You're just going to leave me?" she pouted.   
The bell rang. "Aw, crap! Look, I gotta go. Just make sure you close the door behind you, okay?"   
"But what about--"   
"Bye!" After making sure no one was looking, Pietro raced off to class.

After class, he stopped at his locker to stash what books he wouldn't need (which was most of them; he'd already done his homework for the entire year) and wait for Lance to give him a ride home. Then he remembered Lance had detention, for an unfortunate incident in Chemistry.   
He'd have to walk home. Crap!   
_Could this day get any worse?_   
"Hi, Petey!"   
Pietro jumped. It was her, from this morning. He still couldn't remember her name. "Uh, hi, uh . . ."   
She giggled. "Don't act like you don't know my name! Where were you?"   
"Well, the teachers kinda get upset if I don't show up for class." _Maybe Blob will show up and sit on her or something._   
"I wish we were in the same classes," she sighed. "Then we could see each other **all** the time!"   
"Yeah. Listen, uh . . . I gotta go home. Right now. It's really important."   
"I'll come with you! Whatever it is, I'll help!"   
"No! I mean, you can't! It's a--you know, a family thing."   
"Oh." She looked so sad all of a sudden. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."   
"Yeah, bye . . ." He took a stab at it. "Marcie?'   
She gave him a mock-angry look. "It's Stephanie, silly! Are you trying to make me jealous?"   
_No, I'm trying to make you leave!_ "Just kidding. Bye!" He ran out the door, at normal human speed in case anyone was watching, and didn't look back.   
  
So he was as surprised as anyone when he got home and found Stephanie waiting for him on the front porch.   
"Whatareyoudoinghere?" he blurted out, before he could stop himself.   
She smiled at him. "I just happened to run into your friend Lance, and he offered to give me a ride. I didn't know you two lived together."   
"We don't 'live together', we're just sort of in the same house. It's not the same thing." Pietro didn't know why he was defending his sexuality, when just that morning she'd experienced it first-hand, but maybe she thought he was bi or something. You never know with some people.   
"Can I see your room? I bet it's nice." As he walked past, she stroked the inside of his thigh. "Just like you."   
"Uh . . . we're not exactly ready for company."   
"That's okay. I'll wait while you clean up."   
_What did I ever do to deserve this?_ Pietro thought, and then the answer came back: _You slept with her, that's what._ Not that there was any actual sleeping going on. Might have been nice, though. At least she would have been quiet.   
Out of all the girls in the school, most of whom were crazy about him, why did he have to pick the one with a squeaky voice and the personality of human Krazy Glue?   
And how was he going to get rid of her?

One thing was for sure: he'd be having words with Lance about being a Good Samaritan. Where **was** Lance, anyway?   
Freddy was in the kitchen (where else?), and Toad was watching TV, but there was no sign of Lance.   
"He's upstairs."   
"Aaaaahhhh!" Pietro jumped and turned around. "I thought you were waiting outside!"   
"I got bored." She came over and rested her head on his chest. "You owe me some cuddling, Snookums."   
_Oh, brother!_ Now he knew why Wanda hated Toad so much. "Maybe later."   
"You didn't tell me you were having a friend over, Pietro," said Mystique, who had shifted into her Ms. Darkholme form halfway down the stairs.   
"She can't stay. In fact, she has to be going right now, don't you?" He was trying to hustle her out the door, but she wouldn't budge.   
"My parents don't mind if I stay for dinner," Stephanie said. "They don't . . . they don't care if I ever come home."   
Suddenly she was crying, and Pietro was left standing there, not sure of what to do.   
_Put your arm around her,_ said one voice in his head.   
_Are you crazy? Get away from her before she sucks you into her Black Hole of Cuddling! This is your only chance!_   
Since when did he have voices in his head?   
Now she was using his shirt--his favorite shirt!--as a handkerchief.   
"Of course you can stay, dear," Mystique said. "We'll be happy to have you, won't we, Pietro?"   
"Huh?" At what point exactly had he lost control of this situation? "Uh, yeah, sure. Igottagochangemyshirt." He started up the stairs . . .   
And she was right behind him. "Let me see your room!"   
"No! You can wait outside!"   
"But, Snookums . . ." She made this face. You know the one, with the big eyes and the wounded expression. The one that's guaranteed to get you your way every time.   
Sure enough, it worked. "Okay. But **don't** touch anything!"   
_Including me!_

"Okaythisismyroomisn'titniceyoucanwaitoutsidebye!" He tried to shut the door in her face, but she stuck her foot in the crack.   
"How 'bout I take a closer look?"   
_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_   
Before Pietro could stop her, she was inside, and on his bed. "Ooh, nice and soft! We have time for another go before dinner?"   
"No! No, we don't!"   
"Aw, Snookums . . ."   
"And stop calling me that!" He found a clean shirt and changed as quickly as he could.   
"Why? I thought you liked it!"   
"Well, I don't." That voice--that voice of hers was going to drive him insane! "Okay, you've seen the room, now let's go back downstairs."   
"So soon?" She stretched out on the bed, arching her back to show off her less-than-impressive breasts.   
"Yes!" Trying not to look, Pietro took her hand and yanked her up off the bed. Then he picked her up and carried her downstairs.

"Hey, that's **my** shirt!" Lance said, appearing from his room. "Who said you could borrow my--oh."   
"It got in with my stuff," Pietro said. "Oh, this is, uh . . ." Why couldn't he ever remember her name?   
"Stephanie," she filled in. "I see you all the time in detention."   
"Fellow troublemaker, huh?" said Lance.   
She lowered her eyes in the phoniest sad act Pietro had ever seen. "I act up in class sometimes so I'll have to stay after school, cause I . . . I don't want to go home."   
Pietro rolled his eyes. _And here she goes with the waterworks again._   
There was a crash downstairs, and a frightened-sounding yelp. "Wanda's home," Lance said.

"Help me!" Toad was trying to hide behind the couch, but with a wave of her hand, Wanda sent it flying.   
"Don't you **ever** try to--"   
"Wanda, put the couch back," Pietro said, trying to keep his voice calm. He was as scared spitless of Wanda's powers as anyone else, but he tried to hide it.   
Wanda turned on him. "I don't have to take orders from you!"   
"Wow, I like your outfit," Stephanie said.   
Pietro looked at her like she'd gone crazy. "This is not the time to be getting fashion tips!"   
"No, no, give her the fashion tips!" said Toad. "Give me time to get away!"   
"You're not going anywhere!" Wanda grabbed him and was about to slam his head into the floor when Mystique came in to see what all the noise was.   
"We're about to eat," she said. "Wanda, you'll have to kill him later."   
"Saved by the dinner bell," Toad gasped.   
"Lance, get the extra chair from your room."   
"That'll take a while," Pietro said. Lance kept his school books, guitar, clean laundry, and other assorted junk on his chair, until you could barely **see** the chair. It was not so much a place to sit as a place to park stuff that couldn't go on the floor.   
While Lance went back upstairs, Stephanie asked, "Ooh, what are we having?"   
Wanda seemed to notice her for the first time. "Who are you?"   
"Oh," Pietro said. "This is . . . Sandy?"   
"Stephanie!"   
"I knew that!"   
Wanda rolled her eyes. "You don't even bother learning their names anymore?"   
"Hey!"   
"No fighting, you two!" Mystique warned them. "Come sit down."   
Of course Stephanie sat right next to Pietro. A little **too** close, if you asked him.

For the first few moments, no one said anything. The tension in the air was unbearable. Then, finally, Mystique said, "So, are you a freshman, dear?"   
"Sophomore," Stephanie said.   
"Ah, yes, you're the one who set all the frogs loose in the biology lab last year, weren't you?"   
"Well, I didn't want to kill a poor defenseless little froggy!"   
"Funny, Wanda doesn't seem to have any problem with it," Lance remarked.   
"Shut up!"   
"Now, I won't have talk like that at the table when we have company," Mystique said. And what was with this nice act of hers, anyway? Pietro would have felt better if she'd just yelled at someone.   
"Sorry." And now Lance was apologizing! Pietro sat there with his mouth open (fortunately, it wasn't full of food). Why were they all acting like--like human beings? This wasn't right! It wasn't normal! It wasn't--   
There was a foot in his lap.   
Stephanie was in the process of winding her leg around his, under the table. He'd be trapped!   
"Something wrong, Pietro?" Mystique asked him. "You're not eating."

He shoved the leg off his lap and stood up. "Ihavetogotothebathroom."   
"Well, don't be long. There won't be any food left."   
He rushed to the downstairs bathroom, shut and locked the door. _Safe!_   
The shower curtain rustled. "This is nice. I like the wallpaper."   
"Aaaaahhhh!" He jumped back, nearly falling into the sink. "How did you get in here?"   
"Go about your business. I won't look."   
_But I came in here to get **away** from you!_   
"Uh . . . I can't pee with an audience."   
"You won't even know I'm here." She said this while one arm went around his neck and her chest pressed into his.   
"That'sokayIdon'thavetogoanymorebye!" Pietro slipped out from under her and escaped back to the table . . .   
There she was, right in her chair, like she'd never left. Had he hallucinated the whole thing?   
"Who wants cake?" Mystique said.   
But the worst was yet to come.

Wanda stood up. "I have to go to the bathroom," she announced.   
"Well, what do ya want," Lance grumbled, "a round of applause?"   
"And Stephanie has to come with me." She grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her up out of her chair.   
"Hey! I wasn't finished with my ice cream!"   
"This is more important."   
"More important than ice cream?"   
"Well . . . maybe." Wanda closed the bathroom door behind them and locked it. "I want to know exactly what's going on between you and my brother."   
"Why?"   
"Because I'm his only family--" Not exactly true, but with any luck she wouldn't be meeting the Evil Father--"and family has to look out for each other."   
"I'd never hurt him, not in a million years!"   
"We all say that, don't we?" Wanda sat down on the edge of the tub. "Just how close are the two of you?"   
"How close?"   
"How far have you gone?"   
Stephanie's jaw dropped. "Omigod, he told me nobody would hear us! I didn't mean to be so loud!"   
"Loud? What did you do?"   
"You know . . ."   
"The full monty?"   
"He calls it Monty?"   
"Never mind." Wanda shook her head. "Did-you-have-sex?"   
"That would be a yes."   
"YOU DID?"   
The lights in the house began flickering on and off.   
"Is-is that a problem?"   
"IS THAT A PROBLEM? GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Wanda was **really** mad now. "NO LITTLE BROTHER-DEFILING SLUTS WELCOME HERE! HIT THE ROAD, BITCH!"   
Now the house was shaking. Stephanie didn't know how, but she didn't want to make Wanda any more angry than she already was.   
"Okay, okay, I'm going!" She burst through the bathroom door, flew by the dining room (shouting over her shoulder "Dinner was great thanks bye!"), and nearly broke down the front door.   
"Is she gone?" Wanda demanded.   
"What did you say to her?" Pietro shouted.   
Wanda stepped over to him and slapped him right across the face. "You slut! You **slept** with that girl!"   
"Yeah, so?"   
"I don't want your little floozies coming around here! This is my house too, and I won't share it with your toys!" She stomped up the stairs and slammed the door of her room.   
"I thought she was kinda nice," Toad said.   
"Oh, shut up!" Pietro went out to look for her. He searched everywhere he could think of, and a few more that were pretty unlikely, but it was like she had just disappeared.   
_Oh well,_ he thought, as he headed home. _I'll see her in school tomorrow._

But Stephanie never showed up at school the next day. Pietro checked with the office and found that someone had called her in sick.   
_I don't blame her,_ he thought. He wasn't speaking to Wanda right now, because of what she'd done to the poor girl (_and how did she get away from me so fast? I couldn't lose her if I tried before!_).   
She was still sick the next day, but the day after, he saw her in the hall and called out to her. "Hey, Stephanie!"   
She saw him and took off.   
He went after her. "Scuse me, scuse me! Can I get by, jerk?"   
The jerk gave him a dangerous look. "Where you goin' in such a hurry?"   
"I don't have time for this!" He saw a break in the traffic and zoomed ahead, hoping no one would notice.   
But by the time he made it through, Stephanie was gone.   
  
Pietro finally found her in, of all places, the janitor's closet where all this had started.   
He didn't know what made him look there, just that he happened to be passing by, and thought _Oh, what the heck . . ._   
She was lying on her side on the old mattress, with her back to him. When she heard the door open, she looked up. "Oh! It's you!"   
"I've been looking all over for you! Why did you run away?"   
"Why did you look for me?" she muttered, so low he could barely hear her.   
"Uh . . ." _Good question._ "I . . . wanted to apologize."   
"You didn't do anything wrong."   
"For Wanda, I mean. She's kind of . . . protective of me."   
"She didn't have to yell at me." Stephanie sounded like she was crying.   
Pietro just stood there, not knowing what to do. Finally he sat down beside her. "I promise I won't let her yell at you anymore, okay?"   
"Okay," she sniffled. She leaned her head up against Pietro's shoulder and cried on his second-favorite shirt.   
_Why does she always do this?_   
"Um . . . I think we have to gobacktoclassnow."   
"What?"   
"Wegottagotoclass! Thebell'sgonnaringanysecond!" He helped her up and hustled her out the door before anyone saw them where they weren't supposed to be.   
"You're such a gentleman, Petey."   
"Don't call me that!"   
"Why not? You can call me Steffie."   
The warning bell rang. "Gottagobye!" He raced off without another word.


	2. She's WHAT?

YOU CAN RUN . . .

BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE

Chapter 2

(Disclaimer: No, I still don't own them.)

After that, it seemed like he couldn't lose her if he tried. Every time he thought he'd got away this time, he turned around and there she was. How did she do it?   
  
"How does she do it?" he asked at lunch.   
"Do what?" Toad asked.   
"Follow me around! It's like she's Super Glued to me or something. Thank God we don't have any classes together, or I'd really go nuts!"   
Wanda smirked. Pietro pretended not to notice.   
"I mean, I can't get away from her! It's like she's got some kind of radar that homes in on me wherever I am--"   
"Maybe she can teleport," Lance said.   
"Or run after you really fast," Fred suggested.   
"I don't care! All I want is to get rid of her!"   
Wanda couldn't hold it in any longer. The laughter exploded out of her like an erupting geyser. Pietro glared at her. "**What** is so funny?"   
"Pietro the Playa, running away from a girl!" Tears were running down her face, she was laughing so hard. "It's your fault, you know, for sleeping with her."   
"Could you please not broadcast that all over school?"   
That just made her laugh harder.   
Pietro got up to return his tray . . .   
. . . and ran into Stephanie again.   
"Aaaahhh! I thought you had a different lunch period!"   
"I changed it, just for you."   
_Please, just go away!_ He was acutely aware of the Brotherhood watching both of them with interest.   
"Why do you keep following me?"   
"Because I **love** you, Petey! I--" Suddenly she went pale. She clapped a hand over her mouth and sprinted from the lunch room.   
"Wow, what'ja say to her?" Toad said.   
"Nothing! I dunno, maybe she's sick." _Please, God, let it be something that keeps her out of school for a few days! I need a break!_   
"Yeah, sick of you," smirked Lance.   
Pietro would have hit him if Mystique (as Ms. Darkholme) hadn't suddenly joined them. "Something wrong with your little friend?"   
"I hope not," he said.   
"Wanda, go and see if she's in the girls' room."   
"Do I have to?"   
"Don't drown her," Fred said.   
Wanda, looking murderous, stalked off in the direction of the girls' bathroom. It seemed like forever until she returned. "She said she's okay now. She just ate too fast or something." She seemed almost . . . disappointed.   
Mystique nodded. "Probably the cafeteria food."   
"What's wrong with the food?" Fred demanded. He was on his third plateful of mystery meat and instant mashed potatoes.   
Pietro felt . . . well, he wasn't sure **what** he felt. Was he actually starting to like Stephanie?   
_Naaaaahhh . . ._   
Just then he felt a familiar pair of arms encircle his waist. "I'm baaack! Misss me?"   
_Help!_

"I don't think this is the time or place for that," Wanda spat. "Besides, lunch period's almost over."   
Stephanie let go reluctantly. "I wish," she sighed, "we were in the same classes, so I'd see you all day long!"   
_Like you don't already?"_ "Yeah," Pietro said. "That'd be nice."   
"But we can see each other **after** school!"   
"I guess."   
"Great! I'll meet you by the gym entrance right after the final bell!"   
_Wait a minute!_ "Uh . . . won't your parents worry if you don't come home from school?"   
"They won't even know. They're traveling on business again. I think they're in Europe somewhere."   
"And they just leave you all alone?"   
"Yeah. Well, the lady next door's supposed to look after me, but she's addicted to the Game Show Channel. She pokes her head in between 'Wheel of Fortune' and 'Jeopardy', but that's about it."   
Pietro could sympathize, having a father who'd been more out of his life than in it for the past decade or so. "Do they even call?"   
"Sometimes. In between meetings and stuff. Mostly I call the hotel and leave messages for them."   
The bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. For once, Pietro wasn't rushing to get away from his clinging amour.   
_No wonder she's so desperate for affection. She doesn't get any at home. Poor girl, I should be nicer to her . . .WHAT AM I SAYING?_

Pietro's last class was absolute torture, but not for the usual reason. Usually he kept one eye on the teacher and the other on the clock, willing it to go faster. Not today. Today Ms. Whatsherface could go on and on as long as she liked; it was okay with him. Anything to keep the final bell from ringing . . .   
_Figures.__ The one time I don't want this day to end so soon, the clock seems to be moving double-time! Maybe I can get detention for something--_   
Even as he was thinking this, the bell rang.   
_Too late._   
He gathered up his books and shuffled out into the hallway like he was on the way to his own execution. The classroom was depressingly close to the gym entrance, but when he got there, there was no sign of Stephanie.   
_Great! She's not here! I'm gone!_   
"She's in the bathroom," Wanda said, coming around the corner.   
"Gaaah! Give a guy some warning when you sneak up on him like that!"   
Wanda just looked at him.   
"Whaddya mean, she's in the bathroom?"   
"She's sick again."   
"Maybe we should just take her home." _Yeah, that's the ticket! Oh, wait, she'll probably want me to stay with her or something. Crap!_   
"I'll go see if she's okay." Wanda started toward the girls' bathroom, but Pietro zipped ahead of her.   
"No, I'll do it!"   
"Are you crazy? You can't go in the girls' room!"   
"I won't look at anything!"   
"Stay right here," Wanda ordered him. "I mean it. If I come back and you're not here . . ."   
Pietro gulped. He didn't want to know what his sister would do to him. "O-okay."   
  
Wanda went inside and looked around. She couldn't hear any noises anymore, but that didn't mean anything. "Stephanie? You still in here?"   
"Yes," Stephanie called from the furthest stall.   
Wanda walked down to the end and stood outside the door. "Do you need any help? We can take you home if you want."   
"No, it's . . . I think I'm okay now. It doesn't happen more than once or twice a day."   
_Once or twice a day?_ "How long have you been throwing up?"   
"I don't know . . . maybe a week or so. First I thought it was the flu or something. But I didn't have a fever or anything, so I thought it might be food poisoning . . ."   
Suspicions were starting to arise in Wanda's mind. She asked the other girl a question, to which she replied in the negative.   
"I see," Wanda said. "Wait here, I'll be right back."   
She marched out of the bathroom, went over to where Pietro was standing, and punched him right in the face.   
"Ow! Hey! I didn't move!"   
"That's not for moving, you idiot! Do you know what you've done now?"   
"What? Poisoned her?"   
"No." The look she was giving him was angry enough to kill a plastic plant. "What you did," she spat, "was get Stephanie pregnant!"   
"Oh, well, that's okay then," he said, before the words sunk in.   
_Pregnant?_   
**"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"**

Interlude--Xavier Institute   
  
"You track down the source of that weird Cerebro signal yet, Chuck?" Logan asked.   
Professor Charles Xavier looked up from his work. "No, not yet. I've managed to pin it down to the area surrounding the high school . . ."   
"The high school? You ask the kids if they saw anything?"   
"Yes, I've already tried. None of them noticed anything out of the ordinary."   
"And you can't track this kid until he uses his powers again?"   
"Exactly." Xavier pushed himself away from the Cerebro control panel. "I've set it to alert me if he--or she--is active again. Till then, there's not much else we can do."

(Chapter 3 coming soon! Time to tell the parents!)


	3. Telling the Parents

YOU CAN RUN . . .

BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE

Chapter 3

(Disclaimer: No, I still don't own them. So stop asking!)

(Author's note:  One scene here was inspired by a scene in _Red Dwarf_—if you know the show, you'll recognize it when you see it. Tee hee!)

Telling the Parents   
  
They went back to Stephanie', stopping along the way to pick up a home pregnancy test kit.   
"Results in five minutes," Wanda read off the box. "Ooh, Pietro, are you sure you can wait that long?"   
"Shut up!"   
"Be nice," Stephanie said. She put one hand on her stomach. "Baby doesn't like you being mean to Auntie."   
"What baby? It's the size of the head of a pin!"   
"That doesn't mean it doesn't have feelings!"   
"Okay, okay!" Pietro grumbled. "Sorry."   
  
"Is it ready yet?"   
"You just asked that two seconds ago!" Wanda was more than a little irritated with her brother's impatience. "I told you, I'll let you know when the five minutes is up!"   
"How long has it been now?"   
She consulted her watch. "Twenty-five seconds. You still have four and a half minutes to go."   
"Four and a half minutes?" Pietro squirmed in his seat. This was both the longest and the shortest five minutes of his life. He didn't want to know the results of the test . . . but he had to.   
And then there was Stephanie, all excited, not realizing her life was over. She thought having a baby would be some sweet, wonderful experience. Clearly she had no idea what she was in for.   
_What we're **both** in for._   
"How long--"   
"Four minutes! Can't you read a magazine or something? Or go watch TV? I think _Girls in Tiny Swimsuits_ is on."   
"How am I supposed to concentrate when my whole future is being decided by a stupid batch of chemicals?" Pietro tried to reach for the test kit, but Wanda stopped him.   
"Don't! You'll mess it up!"   
"I thought you couldn't mess up this thing," he said. "Didn't it say so on the box?"   
"Believe me, if there's a way to mess it up, you'll find it," she said, glaring at him. "Now sit there till I tell you it's done."   
So he sat there.   
For four minutes.   
While Stephanie hummed "Rock-a-Bye Baby" and looked through a maternity catalog. (Where it had come from, he had no idea. Probably tucked into the test kit.)   
While he waited, he prayed.   
_Please, God, please don't let it turn blue! I'll do anything you want! I swear I'll never even look at another girl again! Just please, **please** let me off the hook this one time!_   
"It's changing color!" Wanda announced.   
"What color?" Pietro nearly fell off his perch on the edge of the tub.   
"Yes it is! It's changing color!"   
**"What color?"**   
"Oh, Pietro, good news! Excellent news!"   
"Oh, thank God!" Pietro started to relax.   
"I'm going to be an auntie!"   
The look on Pietro's face at that moment--Wanda wished she had a camera.

"So what do we do now?"   
Pietro was still sitting in the same spot, frozen in shock. Stephanie, on the other hand, was ecstatic. She tried to call her parents, but only got the hotel answering service. But even that couldn't deflate her good mood--she left a message, and then waited by the phone for them to call back.   
Everyone else just sort of waited around to see what would happen next.   
"What do we **do** now?" Toad repeated to Wanda, who just shrugged.   
This was not going to be easy, Pietro could see that much. When Steph's parents came home--if they came home--they were sure to blow up about this.   
At **him**.   
_The **one** time I forget the condom . . ._   
"Let's go back to our house," Pietro said at last. "We'll figure out what to do there."   
"What if my folks call?" Stephanie asked.   
"Well, they'll leave a message, right? You can pick it up when you get home."   
"Okay."   
But when they got there, they had an unpleasant surprise waiting for them.   
"Hello, Pietro."   
Pietro gulped. "Uh, hi, Dad. What are you doing home?"

"Well, Pietro," his father said, "it seems my business has slowed down a bit, and I'll be working from home for a while."   
Pietro took another look. It was the first time in years he had seen the older man in anything but his red and purple uniform. He looked out of place in double-knit slacks and a polo shirt, like . . . a king masquerading as an ordinary person.   
And he'd be **home** with them? For how long?   
Magneto noticed Stephanie. "You haven't introduced me to your friend."   
Looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else at the moment, Pietro said, "Dad, this is Stephanie. Steff, this is my dad."   
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Maximoff," Stephanie said, holding out her hand.   
"It's quite nice to meet you too, Stephanie. And it's Lensherr, by the way. Pietro and Wanda took their mother's surname."   
Interesting family Pietro had. "And where is she?"   
"I'm afraid she died several years ago."   
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to--"   
"That's all right. Well, make yourselves at home. There are juice boxes in the fridge."   
Wanda spoke up just then. "Dad, I think Pietro needs to talk to you in private."   
"It can wait. I'm sure Dad's busy." _Die, Wanda, die!_   
"Actually, I'm not at the moment." Magneto motioned Pietro into a room off the kitchen. Two days ago it had been a storage closet. Now there was a regular home office set up in there. Was it just for show, or . . .   
"What's going on?" Pietro asked, when they were alone.   
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" his father said. "Wanda did say you had something to tell me."   
"Uh . . . it can wait."   
"I'd like to hear it. Is it something at school?"   
"Well . . . it **did** happen there. Sort of."   
"Is it something I'm going to be getting a note from a teacher about?"   
"No . . ."   
"Well, then, what?"   
  
In the living room, everyone was straining to hear the "private" conversation.   
"Betcha twenty bucks he doesn't tell him," Lance said to Toad.   
"You don't have twenty bucks!" the younger boy protested. "Actually, I don't either. Can we bet me washing your car against you doing my laundry?"   
"Done."   
"He'll never tell," Wanda gloated. "He's too much of a coward."   
**"WHAT?"**   
Toad turned to Lance and smirked. "I got four loads ready to go whenever you are."   
The door banged open. "How could you be so irresponsible?"   
"I . . . I didn't mean to!"   
"I can't believe this!" Magneto stalked across the room and came to a halt in front of Stephanie's chair. "Is this true? Are you . . . in the family way?"   
The poor girl was so terrified she could do nothing but nod weakly.   
Erik turned to the rest of the group. "Upstairs," he ordered them. "Find something else to do till we get this sorted out. And if I catch any of you eavesdropping . . ."   
They didn't need to hear the rest of the sentence. The boys flew up the stairs and locked themselves in their rooms, lest they be next on the hit list.   
"You too, Wanda."   
"But I'm family! Isn't this a family discussion?"   
"At the moment, it doesn't concern you. When it does, I'll let you know."   
"Humph." She got halfway up the stairs and then turned back. "I was the one who figured it out, you know. Mr. Clueless here thought it was the cafeteria food."   
"Wanda!"   
"All right, I'm going!" She went to her room, but left the door open a crack so she could hear the juicy bits.

"Honestly, Pietro, you can truly be a total idiot sometimes! Didn't you learn **anything** about safe sex or birth control in that health class of yours?"   
"Well, yeah, but still . . ."   
"But **what**?"   
Pietro flinched from his father's angry words. He wasn't expecting hearts and flowers, but this was going overboard in a big way. _Next thing, he'll pull the "I have no son" routine on me and--_   
Stephanie was crying her eyes out, even though Magneto hadn't said a word to her yet. Pietro sat down beside her and put his arm around her.   
"Happy, Wanda?" he shouted up the stairs. "You just couldn't keep quiet and let **me** tell him, could you? No, you had to open your big fat stupid mouth and blab everything!"   
"Well, **you** should have thought more about the consequences before you went ahead and bonked the first virgin who came along!" Wanda shouted down at him.   
"Afraid to show your face, you little bi--" Pietro started to say, but Magneto cut him off before he could finish.   
"Wanda, I told you to stay out of this! Pietro, sit still, and don't call your sister names!" With that, Wanda's door slammed shut as Magneto stalked back to his chair.   
Stephanie was still crying. She felt like she had messed everything up for everyone, herself included, and now Pietro would be mad at her forever . . .   
"You okay?" he asked her.   
"No, I'm **not** okay! I'll never be okay again!" Stephanie blurted, then began a fresh round of tears. "Everything is all wrong, and it's all my fault!"   
"Hey, hey, it's **not** your fault! We can fix this . . . somehow."   
Even as his words tried to soothe her, part of his brain was saying _What__ are you **doing**? This is Psycho Girl! The one you couldn't get rid of? Why are you acting like you **like** her?_   
_Shut up, Brain._   
"Whatever happens," he told her, "it'll be okay. We'll go through it together."   
"No we won't," she said. "You'll leave. You always leave, all the girls warned me you would, but I thought that if you really loved me--"   
"I **do** really love you."   
_You do?_   
_Shut **up**!_   
"We need to discuss your options," Erik said, "once we've contacted your parents."   
Stephanie shook her head. "I've tried already. I keep getting the hotel answering service."   
"Where are they?"   
"Somewhere in Switzerland, I think."   
"What's the name of the hotel?"   
"Chateau de . . . Something. Marc or Mars or Marsha or something like that. I can't remember. But I have the number written down here."   
Magneto asked to see it. When she handed it over, he recognized it at once. "Chateau de Martel."   
"You know it?"   
"Believe it or not, I own part of it. Get me the phone."   
Pietro fetched the cordless, and the older man dialed a long series of digits. He listened, then punched some more numbers. Finally he was able to get a human being on the line.

_"Concierge."_   
"Bonjour. C'est Erik Lensherr."   
The concierge switched to English. "Mr. Lensherr! This is unusual, sir, to hear from you so early in the season--"   
"I didn't know your dad spoke French," Stephanie said. "Or that he owned a hotel."   
Pietro nodded, wishing she'd get her hands out of his lap. "Dad has some property in Europe. Family money, or so he says--hey! Do you mind?"   
"What? You had lint on your pants!"   
"Oh."   
Magneto turned to Stephanie and asked her, "What's your mother's name?"   
"Genevieve."   
"Her **last** name?"   
"Oh! Mahoney."   
The older man nodded, turned back to the phone, and asked the concierge to connect him with Genevieve Mahoney's room.   
  
Thousands of miles away, Stephanie's mother was in the middle of a mud bath when an attendant came in to tell her she had a phone call.   
"Tell them I'll call them back!" she said, and relaxed some more.   
"He says it's urgent. It's about your daughter."   
That made her sit up and take notice. "What's she done this time?"   
"Perhaps you'd better ask him that. He insists on speaking directly to you."   
Genny sighed. Stephanie never failed to mess things up, just when they were starting to go well for her. It was like she had a talent for it.   
She stepped out of the mud bath, toweled off, wrapped a robe around herself, and then took the phone. "Gen Mahoney. Who is this?"   
"This is Erik Lensherr. You don't know me, but my son is acquainted with your daughter. More than casually, as it turns out."   
Genny rolled her eyes. "You dragged me out of the spa to talk about our kids **knowing** each other?"   
"In the Biblical sense."   
It took a moment for that to sink in. When it did . . .   
"**_WHAT?_**"  
They heard her scream as far away as the hiking trails.   
  
"Mrs. Mahoney, getting hysterical won't help the situation--"   
"SHUT UP! THIS IS **YOUR** FAULT! IF YOU'D KEPT THAT KID OF YOURS ON A LEASH NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!"   
"I don't think now is the time to--"   
"DON'T YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO! YOU KEEP YOUR LITTLE RAPIST AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER OR I SWEAR I'LL HAVE HIM ARRESTED!"   
Magneto had to hold the phone at least a foot from his ear to preserve his hearing. "As I understand it, the act was consensual. Believe me, I'm not excusing what they did, but we can work out--"   
"WHAT PART OF 'KEEP YOUR SON AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER' DIDN'T YOU UNDERSTAND?" Genny screamed, and then slammed the phone down.   
Magneto flinched, and then put the phone back in the cradle. "Well, that went well."

Maybe he'd have better luck with the other parent. Erik redialed the hotel, and asked to be connected with Stephanie's father.   
"I'll get right to the point," he said, hoping the man hadn't heard from his wife yet. "You and I are going to be grandparents."   
To his credit, Stephanie's father didn't raise his voice or make wild accusations. "When did this happen?"   
"It was about a month ago, as I understand it. So there's still time for us to do something about it . . ."   
"What are you suggesting?"   
"I'm not suggesting anything. All I'm saying is that we should get together to determine the best possible solution to our dilemma."   
"Are you saying they should have the baby?"   
"That's one of the things we'll discuss. I like to think I'm open-minded--stop laughing, Wanda! You're supposed to be in your room!"   
But Wanda refused to keep out of the way. "Why don't I get a say in this?" she demanded. "I'm part of this family too! My life will be affected in ways you can't imagine!"   
"Stop being so dramatic and get upstairs!"   
"But I'm the one who's gonna end up baby-sitting the kid half the time!"   
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," her father said. "Now let's not have any more interruptions, all right?"   
He uncovered the phone. "Are you still there?"   
"Yeah. Where and when should we meet?"   
"How about at my house, when you come home from your trip?"   
"Good idea. I'll be on the next flight home."   
  
Stephanie was not pleased to hear this. "They're coming **here**?"   
"I thought it was more convenient, where you're already here." She was staying with them for the time being, in Wanda's room. (Wanda was thrilled.)   
"I don't wanna see them. I don't wanna talk to them." She put her head down on the table . . .   
Pietro came in a moment later. "Is she asleep?"   
"Must be the stress," Wanda said. "Her parents are coming here to talk to our so-called father about your future."   
"They're **WHAT**?"   
He passed out cold on the floor.

(More parental screaming next chapter!)


	4. Family Meeting

Family Meeting  
  
Stephanie wished she could be anywhere else but here right now. Her parents had no sooner come through the door than they were screaming at each other like crazy people, and all over stupid things like half-empty coffee cups and not putting the milk away immediately after using it.  
  
"Do you know how many half-cartons of milk I've had to throw out this week alone!" her mother was inquiring of her father.  
  
"I think we have more important problems right now than throwing out old milk!"  
  
"But it's not old! That's exactly the point! You're supposed to put it back after you're finished with it! It's a simple concept!"  
  
Stephanie wanted to find a hole to crawl into until they went away or, more likely, killed each other. Unfortunately, the living room of Pietro's house was seriously lacking in hidey-holes, so she had to sit and listen to it all.  
  
Pietro's father tried to get a word in edgewise, but neither of the battling spouses would shut up long enough . . .  
  
"It's your fault our daughter's a freak!" her mother shrieked. "And now she's breeding more freaks!"  
  
"Don't you dare call her a freak!"  
  
"Well, she's not having that . . . thing . . . if I can help it!"  
  
"What, I don't get a say in this?" Stephanie demanded. "It's my baby!"  
  
"Yeah, mine too!" Pietro complained. "What about my opinion?"  
  
"YOU STAY OUT OF THIS!" Genevieve complained at the top of her high-class lungs.  
  
"Don't you talk to him like that!" Stephanie wanted to kill her mother.  
  
It was left to Erik to be the peacekeeper. "All right, everybody just take a deep breath or two--"  
  
"SHUT UP, YOU BRAT!" Stephanie's mother screamed at her. That was the last straw.  
  
"There's no need for name-calling--" Magneto started, but Stephanie was already out of her chair.  
  
"When you decide you want to act like grownups again," she said, "we'll be out front. Come on, Pietro."  
  
"Whaaaaa!" Poor Pietro was dragged along for the ride.  
  
Wanda came in, carrying a tray. "Would anyone like some h'ors d'oerves?"  
  
Outside, Stephanie and Pietro took turns trying to figure out how to get the point across to Stephanie's mother that she needed to butt out--or at least calm down.  
  
Pietro was leaning against a blue BMW, admiring the paintwork. This was a real ride, not like Lance's beat-up old Jeep. He could see himself cruising around in this, the sunroof open, the wind ruffling his--  
  
"Get off that!"  
  
"Aww!" He backed away from the car. "Why? Is it your mom's?"  
  
"No, it's my dad's. That's my mom's, over there." She pointed to a red Lamborghini on the other side of the street.  
  
"Thanks." Pietro zoomed over, opened the unlocked door, and slid into the driver's seat. "It's a good thing Toad taught me to hot-wire cars."  
  
Stephanie looked up just as the Lamborghini flashed past. "Pietro!" she cried out, then went after him.  
  
Xavier Institute  
  
The alarms on Cerebro went off, and Xavier hastened to the chamber. The news was good. He had pinpointed the erratic reading from before . . . sort of.  
  
We've found our mystery mutant, he announced to the X-Men. Stephanie Mahoney, age 15, currently . . . in transit.  
  
In transit? Jean Grey asked. What do you mean?  
  
I'll download the location coordinates into the X-Van's GPS system. She seems to be in motion . . . somehow . . .  
  
Brotherhood house  
  
"Don't tell me," Magneto groaned. "Pietro took your car."  
  
"He stole a hundred-thousand-dollar Italian sports car, that I had to wait six months for them to ship over!" Genevieve was beside herself. "That's it! I'm calling the police!"  
  
She took out her phone and started to dial, but it flew out of her hand.  
  
"You'll do no such thing," Magneto said. Then he dialed it himself.  
  
Pietro's phone rang just as they were going around a corner at 80 MPH. "Get that, it's in my pocket," he said to Stephanie.  
  
"Oh, God," she said, fearing the worst. And she was nearly right. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Magneto thundered into Pietro's ear. Steph was holding the phone for him so he could drive.  
  
"Teaching Bitchy MacBitch a lesson!"  
  
"Do you ever realize how much trouble you're in right now? Mrs. MacBi-- Mahoney wanted to call the police!"  
  
"She'll get the car back. If it's just the car she wants."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Nobody cares about us!" Pietro moaned. "Nobody asks what we think about all this! All they do is fight over milk and--and stupid stuff like that! Does anyone care that my life is over? Never mind what Steph's gonna have to go through! You're all sitting around screaming at each other and nobody wants to hear ourside!"  
  
After a moment, Magneto said, "You have a valid point. But don't you think there are better ways of making it than STEALING YOUR GIRLFRIEND'S MOTHER'S CAR?"  
  
Pietro was so shaken he drifted over into the other lane and nearly hit a semi head-on. He managed to jerk the wheel over in time. "We'll leave the car somewhere she can find it!"  
  
"What's he saying?" he heard Mrs. Mahoney asking in the background.  
  
"He says they're going to leave the car somewhere for you to find," Magneto reported.  
  
"THE HELL HE IS! THAT CAR COST A HUNDRED AND TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS! IF THERE'S ONE SCRATCH ON IT--"  
  
"Genny, will you shut up about the damn car? The car's not important! I don't blame them for running away if this is how you're acting! Will you for once in your life act like a mother?"  
  
"Whoa!" Pietro muttered, out of range of the phone. "Way to grow a pair, Dad-In-Law!"  
  
"Pietro? Are you still there?" Magneto said.  
  
"Yeah, I'm here."  
  
"We're willing to talk to you, if you just come home now. I promise you won't get in trouble for the car--"  
  
There was a muffled exclamation in the background.  
  
"Okay, I'm turning around now."  
  
"Okay. I'll see you when you get home."  
  
"Bye." He nodded to Stephanie, who ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket. Her hand was there a little too long. "Hey! Not while I'm driving! If I smash this thing up, your mom will kill me!"  
  
"She might kill you anyway," Steph moaned. "She hates you."  
  
"Ah, well, whoneedsher? My dad'll sort this all out--"  
  
Just then, a black van came out of nowhere and blocked their path.  
  
"Oh, no!" said Steph. "What now?"  
  
Pietro saw the man getting out of the driver's side. "Not them!"  
  
"Who are they? Cops?"  
  
"No . . ." At this point, he would almost rather have been arrested. 


	5. New Arrangements

5. New Arrangements

"It's okay, darlin'," Wolverine said. "Step away from the car and come with us. We're here to help you."   
"Huh?" Stephanie goggled at these people in their strange costumes.   
"I can't believe you'd stoop this low, Maximoff!" said Cyclops. "Kidnapping--"   
"Who's being kidnapped?" Stephanie demanded.   
Pietro stepped in front of her. "Take the car and go," he said. "I'll handle these guys."   
"No! I won't leave you!" She wrapped her arms around him so tight that he couldn't breathe. "You can't take me away from him! We love each other! We're having a baby and everything!"   
"A **baby**? Spyke said. He stared at Pietro, who was beginning to turn blue. "Uh, Stephanie, I think you'd better let him go."   
"Huh?" Finally she noticed his frantic gasps for air. "Oh! Sorry, Cuddle-Lumpkin!"   
"CUDDLE-LUMPKIN?"   
"Can we just leave already?" Pietro muttered.   
The X-Men didn't know what to do next. They couldn't **force** her to come with them; on the other hand, if she were being brainwashed or something . . .   
Jean Grey approached the girl. "We want you to know," she said soothingly, "that if anything happens, you can come to us."   
"What kind of 'anything happening' did you have in mind?" Stephanie inquired.   
"If you should happen to--break up, or something--"   
"We're **never** breaking up!" Stephanie reached for Pietro again, but he saw her coming and side-stepped. "We'll love each other forever!"   
"Oh, well, if you ever change your mind . . ." Jean's voice trailed off.   
"Look, we got somewhere to be," Pietro said, "and there's no reason for you guys to hang around, so bye!" He put Stephanie in the passenger seat of the car, zipped around and got in the driver's side, backed out, turned around, and drove off.

"Well, that could have gone better," Cyclops said.   
"At least we tried," Jean told him. "We let her know we'd be here if she ever needed help."   
"What is it with those two?" asked Wolverine. "Ya think she's got a couple of loose screws upstairs or something?"   
"I don't think she has one screw fully tightened, if you ask me," Spyke said. "Cuddle-Lumpkin? She's gotta be whacked!"   
They drove home, still talking about what could be done for Stephanie, short of kidnapping her and dragging her to the mansion (which Evan was still in favor of).   
"We've gotta get her away from Pietro!" he insisted. "He's a total jerkwad! And he's controlling her, somehow!"   
"I thought you said she was crazy to begin with," Rogue said. "Is it his fault or her fault?"   
"Both! Either! I dunno!"   
"We can't do anything unless we know he's hurting her," Jean pointed out. "Let's just keep an eye out for any signs of him controlling or abusing her."   
"Or vice-versa," Kurt said facetiously.   
  
Pietro and Stephanie brought the car back shortly, and apologized for all the trouble they'd caused.   
Mrs. Mahoney refused to even speak to either of them, except to say, "Don't even **think** about coming home until **that**--" she pointed at Steph's stomach--"is gone."   
"Oh, c'mon, Mom! You can't do this!"   
"Make the appointment. Then we'll talk." She left without saying goodbye or acknowledging anyone else.   
Stephanie's father said, "We'll work this out. Somehow. I'll talk to her." Then he left too.   
"Hey," a voice shouted from upstairs, "in New York State, you can get married at 16 with both parents' permission."   
"Thank you, Wanda," Pietro called up.   
"Well, that's out," Stephanie said.   
"Why?"   
"Well, you don't **have** both parents, and as for my mom . . ."   
"Don't worry," he said, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "We'll figure something out."   
"In the meantime," Magneto said, "you can stay here. We'll move the extra bed into Wanda's room."   
"HEY!"   
"I didn't think you'd mind, since you seem to be in a helpful mood. Tell whoever else has got their ears pressed to the door to get the cot down from the attic and put clean sheets on it."   
"Not **my** room!"   
"Well, where else can we put her?"   
"Why can't she sleep with Pietro? It's not as if they could do any **more** damage!"   
"Wanda." His voice was low, but metal objects all over the house started to vibrate. "Help us out. After all, as you said, you're family."   
Wanda let out one of her big dramatic sighs. "O**kay**."   
"Oh, this'll be fun!" Stephanie exclaimed. "Just like sisters!"

Wanda wanted to kill Pietro, her father, and Stephanie as well—and whoever had built that stupid closet where Pietro and Stephanie had made out the day everything went wrong. "He's a dead man," she fumed, while she made room for Stephanie's things in her room.

Lance and Fred brought the bed in from the upstairs guest room and set it up in the empty space. Toad found some sheets in the attic and after running them through the washer, they were somewhat presentable.

"It's only temporary, anyway," Stephanie said. "Just till we get married, then I'll move in with Pietro."

Wanda just glared at her, suppressing a desire to rip her chirpy little head off and stuff it in the resulting hole. _This wasn't what I had in mind! _She thought. _I never asked for a sister!_

"Do you have any ideas for names?" Steph asked suddenly.

"Why?"

"Maybe we could name it after your mother if it's a girl? Is that okay?"

"Why are you asking me?" Wanda was looking at her funny.

"Because you'll be the baby's godmother!"

_Oh, brother. _"Stephanie," Wanda said, sitting down beside her. "We're Jewish."

"You-you are?" She looked disappointed. 

"Maybe you ought to talk to Pietro before you go making plans like this. He may not want the baby to be raised Christian."

"He might!" Stephanie insisted. "Maybe he'll convert!"

"You really ought to talk to him about it," Wanda insisted. "Make sure it's what you both want. You know what I mean?"

Stephanie looked at her for a moment, then said, "I guess you're right. I'll talk to Pietro when he gets back from the mini-mart."

"Mini-mart? What did he go there for?"

"He said he wanted a Frappucino . . ." The implications sunk in. 

"Oh, wonderful," Wanda sighed. "Pietro on caffeine."

"Maybe we can head him off—"

Even as Stephanie spoke, Pietro came rushing into the room carrying enough coffee beverages to get King Kong buzzed. "HeyStephguesswhatIgotajob!"

"What?"

"Igotajob!"

"Slow down! I can't understand you!"

"I . . . got . . . a . . . job . . ." he drawled with exaggerated slowness.

"**You got a job?" Wanda said in disbelief.**

"Yeah, I got a job!" Pietro said. "I gotta family now, you know. I need to make money to buy diapers and stuff . . ."

Wanda still couldn't believe what she was hearing. "When did you get a responsibility implant?"

"Well, I was thinking about it anyway, and then I saw a HELP WANTED sign in the window at the mini-mart. So I filled out the application and stuff, and the manager said I can start by the end of the week. I'm going to work afternoons and weekends so I can still go to school, and then in the summer I'll work full-time, if everything works out."

"You got," Wanda repeated, "an **actual **job." She shook her head. "How long do you think you'll keep it?"

"Wanda!" Stephanie said. "That's not nice! Pietro did a big important thing, and I think you should respect him for it!"

"I'll believe it when I see it," Wanda said, leaving the room before they got mushy.

Stephanie threw her arms around Pietro. "Oh, I'm so happy! You're going to be the best daddy in the world!"

Two months later, just after Stephanie's sixteenth birthday, she and Pietro stood before a justice of the peace and were formally married. Stephanie's mother couldn't make it because of a "business trip", but both fathers were in attendance, as well as the rest of the Brotherhood. Lance and Wanda (after Stephanie talked her into it) served as witnesses.

Afterwards, there was a small reception at the home of one of Stephanie's friends. It wasn't a big fancy do, but everyone had a good time.

Things couldn't have been more perfect, Pietro thought.

Boy, was **he **in for a surprise.

END PART I


End file.
